The Parasite
by hazelmom
Summary: An alien parasite gets into Torchwood, and will do anything to stay alive.
1. Chapter 1

7

Hi! I'm new. Watching Torchwood on BBC. I am probably screwing up a bunch of the language as I have never been to Great Britain. Still, I love the show. And I have a little thing for Owen. Let me know if you enjoy.

Sheila

Chapter 1

His weapon felt slippery in his grasp. His breath came in short bursts as if it had taken him five miles of hard running to get to this room when, in reality, he'd come down nothing more than a flight of stairs. His arms were so tight from pointing his weapon that he could feel the tension shooting all the way up the back of his neck.

She smiled at him, much like she did most nights at the pub when he asked for a pint. He'd always flirted with her. She was a barmaid. It was expected, and he was Owen Harper. Pushing women to the edge was what he did.

She was a pretty woman, a bottle blonde with a waist that would one day melt into her hips. She didn't seem to be terribly nervous about the gun he was pointing at her. "Oi, Owen, relax, Luv."

Owen's eyes flicked to her left, noting the woman slumped unconscious against the wall. Her thick black hair had fallen across her face, but he could see that her chest was gently rising and falling. He couldn't afford any more attention on her. She was breathing. It was the best he could hope for.

"Owen! It's okay. You can put the gun down."

Owen jerked his head back to the barmaid. "Can't do that, Shirl."

"You're asking yourself who the host is, aren't you, Luv?"

Owen's eyes darted from Shirley to Gwen's prone form. He'd always done the best he could to treat Gwen like any other women he'd ever had, but she'd touched in a place too deep. He thought Diane could break her hold on him, but Gwen with her big green eyes and generous mouth had gotten buried too far inside him.

"Is she the host or am I?"

Owen struggled to slow his breathing. The alien was a parasite that needed a human host in order to survive. Tosh had been tracking it for the last couple of weeks. The parasite would invade a human body and take over. The needs of the parasite would overwhelm its host; a human host never lasted more than 2-3 days. The parasite was always looking for another body. It'd had already gone through 4 hosts. Jack made it clear that the only way to stop the parasite was to kill its host before it could find another. The trouble was that the parasite needed only to be in brief physical contact with another human to take over.

Perspiration ran down his face, and he had to squint to keep it out of his eyes. The cool of the barmaid suggested that she still carried the parasite. She was showing none of the anxiety he would expect from a woman facing a gun. Yet Jack told him that the effects could linger in any host body who survived the encounter.

Shirley bent down and patted Gwen's arm. "You don't know how hard I hit her, Luv. Do you really want to stand there all day pointing that at me when she might need some real attention? We both know you're not going to do anything with it."

"Don't touch her!"

She leaned over Gwen and blew on her hair. "Should we wake her?"

Owen's arms started to shake. "You move away from her or I put a bullet in you. Now!"

Shirley turned and smiled at Owen. "You can't win at this." Then she sank her teeth into Gwen's arm. Owen pumped an entire clip into the small woman, her body jerking with each bullet. Then she slumped over Gwen.

He gasped and dropped the gun to the floor. Instinct took over, and he rushed over, pulling the barmaid off Gwen. Shirley was sticky with blood, and he searched her for a pulse. The damage he'd done to her was enough to tell him he didn't need to search long. He pulled her blouse apart, and started chest compressions. Then his eyes landed on her neck, and he saw the hole where her carotid should've been. He sat back on his heels and squeezed his eyes shut. There were a finite number of horrible moments in this life he could survive, and he'd already experienced too many of them.

A groan rose from behind him, and he turned to find Gwen stirring. Bloody all the way to his elbows, he gingerly turned her head toward him. "You're going to be alright, Cooper. You hear me?"

She blinked her eyes open.

"It's over, Cooper. Just relax." He pushed her hair out of her face.

"Shirley?"

Owen looked past her. "Had to put her down."

She winced. "Damn!"

Owen studied her face intently.

"Owen?"

He reached over and held her face in his red stained hands. "I know you're in there."

Gwen frowned.

"You can't stay in there. I won't let you."

"Owen Buddy, did you hit your head?"

He stared into her eyes. "She won't cooperate with you."

Gwen started to smile. "She doesn't need to."

"I have to kill you."

"Do you think you can?"

Owen closed his eyes and sat back. He couldn't kill her. She was everything he couldn't have. She was the dream. Killing himself would be easier to contemplate. She crawled over to him. "You can't do it, Owen."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and rolled over on top of her, pinning her to the ground. "I told you that you couldn't have her, and I meant it."

………………………………………………………….

Jack stood at the doorway for a moment to take it all in. Shirley, barmaid from the local pub, was laid out spread eagle, soaked in blood. Gwen huddled in one corner, her head between her knees. In the far end of the room in the shadows Owen sat against the wall, eyes closed. Questions were beginning to crowd his head, but he burst forward with his familiar swagger. "So you had a party and didn't think to invite your old captain, huh?"

Gwen looked up. "It's all a bit foggy, Jack."

"Owen!"

"I killed the bar wench, Jack, in case you didn't notice." Owen opened his eyes but didn't move.

Gwen lifted her arm and groaned. "What the hell?!"

Owen looked at Jack. "Shirley bit Gwen before I could put her down."

Gwen pulled her sleeve up, and Jack knelt beside her. Her upper arm was purple and swollen. Jack looked over his shoulder. "Get over here, Owen!"

Owen pulled himself up. "What do you want from me? It's a bite. Probably infected. She'll need a shot, but she'll live."

Jack took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. "Is it in you?"

She blinked her confusion.

Owen winced when he saw purple swollen mark on her arm. "I took her out the minute she sunk her teeth in, Jack. Parasite probably didn't have time to transfer."

"You should have killed her the minute you knew she carried the parasite."

Owen shook his head. "Always easy for you blokes, telling me what I should have done. Gwen wouldn't have done it or Tosh. Doubt you would have either, but old Owen barely has a conscience on his best day. It's expected that I'd just go ahead and kill some girl who never done anything to me other than draw me a pint."

Jack glared at him. "The parasite will suck a life until it finds another and then another and then another. Four dead in two weeks. How many more days did you think Shirley had with that thing inside of her sucking out her life force?"

Owen was a smaller man than Jack but smaller in the way that a badger is smaller than a raccoon. When he walked up to Jack's face, it was anybody's guess who'd be left standing. Jutting out his chin, he hissed. "We should've had a plan, Jack. Shooting people is not a plan."

Jack closed his eyes and stepped back. "I know. We need a plan."

Owen looked down at Gwen who was trying to pull herself upright. He reached over and grabbed her good arm, pulling her up. "Have Tosh check her out, Jack. She's gonna' test clean for the parasite."

He turned and started for the stairs. Jack called after him. "Where are you going?"

"I just killed a girl. Give me a few minutes."

"We're going to need you back within the hour."

Owen turned and narrowed his eyes. "Why do you need me? If she tests positive, just shoot her."

He disappeared up the stairs.

………………………………………………………….

Owen stayed in the shadows against the wall. It was a cold, wet night, and his fingers had grown stiff with cold. Occasionally, someone would exit the pub, weaving their way down the street in search of their vehicle. The last one slipped on the wet cobblestones and landed on his ass, sending out a string of expletives. It brought Owen the only smile he was likely to find for some time.

It wasn't until 2 a.m. that the mark finally left the pub. Owen played a small light on the photo, comparing it to the tall, heavy man plodding down the street. Owen waited until he passed. Then he followed. Owen went over his sheet as he followed. The man was Frank Randall, 43 years old. Two rape convictions, 7 years behind bars, 2 years since he was paroled. A girl was found raped and murdered a mile from his home six weeks ago. It had his signature except for the murder. It was a sign he was growing. Dead girls can't testify. The forensics on the girl was inconclusive and there'd been no witnesses. Cops couldn't turn him; seven years incarcerated as a rapist left Randall nothing but an open shell. There was nothing left in him to intimidate. Randall was going to walk away from this one; probably the next one too. It would be the fourth, maybe the fifth one before cops would have a task force that could watch his every move. That's when they'd get him. That's how it worked. Cops knew it, Randall knew it, and Owen knew it.

Owen was almost sorry the man was too drunk to hunt. Catching him on the prowl would've been perfect. It would justify everything Owen had to do. On the 3rd block, Randall broke out in song. Owen groaned as the man lurched from lamppost to lamppost, warbling old war ditties off key. Randall's boot caught in a cobblestone and he tumbled onto the ground. Groaning loudly, he laid spread eagle on the street.

It was perfect. Owen had him right where he needed him. Slowly, he walked up to him. All he had to do was make contact, and then kill him. Then he could go home, and sleep the deep sleep of a man who knew that everything was as it should be. Cops would be hard pressed to pound the pavement over a righteous killing like this one.

"Ah, Owen, if it were this easy, I would hardly have stayed alive this long." Owen shook his head sharply. "Relax Boy, you can't escape me, and I'm not leaving, not yet anyway. Besides Owen, I like you. You've so much energy, so much lifeforce. There's no way I would trade you for that."

Owen leaned against the building, wincing as he struggled for focus. "It's okay, Owen. This isn't a death sentence especially for those blokes I take a shine to. We'll work together, you and I. It'll be easier on you, and then when it's time, we'll decide on a new host together. We'll do it before it's too late for you. You'll have a bit of a headache for a day or two, and then be as right as rain again."

Owen burst out of the shadows, a switchblade open in his shaky hands. Randall was in the process of pulling himself upright when he spied Owen. Randall backed up into a lamppost, and started yelling. Owen struggled to compose himself, but the presence in him was too strong. His shaky hand dropped the blade as Randall pushed himself off the post and stumbled down the street away from him.

"That's right, Owen. Let him go. He's not worth our time. Let's head back. Stop for a drink. I think we both could bloody well use one after the events of today. Then we'll go back to your place and let you get some very much needed rest. How about it, Owen?"

…………………………………………………….

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

7

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. Random Shoes was not an episode to inspire and I'm too busy for much of anything. Plus I like Owen, but I get the feeling that most Torchwood fans don't like him much. I'm hoping to write something that keeps him in character but expands it a bit.

Sheila

The Parasite

Chapter 2

Ianto was invisible. It was his gift and he cultivated it. He created a seamless environment inside the hub. No one ever saw him work, but messes disappeared. Mugs, plates, pizza boxes; he took care of all of it. Ianto made sure that Shirley disappeared and the walls and floor of the basement room was scrubbed clean. How Owen, Shirley, and Gwen ended up down there was not his concern; he was only about returning things to how they were.

It would be a mistake to see Ianto as nothing more than an efficient tea boy. He cleaned up messes that weren't visible to the eye as well. The basement room was cleaned top to bottom, but that wasn't enough. Ianto had cameras everywhere. A room was never fully cleaned until Ianto had gone through every minute of the video, searching for what the rest of them never thought to remember. It was on this morning that he was doing just that while the rest of them were up fussing over Gwen's possible parasite infestation, and complaining to each other about Owen's abrupt exit the night before.

Ianto had memorized Jack's report from the night before, and he watched for any deviation from it. He noted Owen's shaking arms as he pointed the gun at Shirley. Owen was hard to like most days. He was arrogant and impatient, but Ianto knew he used it as a defense against the horrors they saw. Owen was young and passionate, and had few tools to handle the intense emotions he felt.

Shirley bit down on Gwen and Owen shot. Ianto winced. His soul was a delicate one. Torchwood work was work he was born to do, but it was at the expense to his deep sensitivities for human suffering.

Suddenly, the video took an unexpected turn. Owen tackled Gwen. He rolled over on top of her, pinning her to the ground. "I told you that you couldn't have her, and I meant it."

Ianto sat up straight, his mouth open.

…………………………………………………………………..

Owen woke breathing hard. He was sweating hard, and his sheets were damp. He looked up at his clock, and groaned. It was almost noon. Jack had a thing about tardiness; it had to be his military background. Owen pulled himself upright and was hit with a wave of nausea.

"_Not so fast, Lover. You're carrying two consciences now. It's a lot of work for one body_."

Owen grabbed his head and leaned over.

"_Take it easy. I want you to last a long time. So strong. So bright. We could have weeks together if you just take it slow."_

Owen slid off the bed and headed for the living room.

"_So you're still not talking to me. I really don't care, Lover."_

He took a bottle of Jameson from a cupboard, and drank down what his body would take.

"_Drink all you want, Owen. It just makes you more pliable for me. I won't stop you."_

Owen squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate.

"_You can't make me go away. I'm here until I'm ready to leave."_

Owen took another long swig from the whiskey bottle and banged it on the counter. He shook his head sharply, and headed for the bathroom. Hot water felt good on his muscles, but fatigue dogged him. He felt as if he'd just finished a twenty mile run.

"_You're thinking of going to work. I can tell, but we're not going to do that, Lover. Your mates probably already know that the Welsh girl isn't carrying me. They aren't so daft that they won't know where to look next."_

Owen pulled on a long sleeved tee and then a short one over it. His hands were shaking, and he fumbled with his sleeves.

"_You can't go to Torchwood, Owen. They'll lock you up down with the Weevils. You know they will. Harkness will make promises and sweet Gwen will feel bad for you, but in the end, they will all know that nothing can be done. You'll waste in a cell while Weevils howl all around until you have no choice but to kill us both. It will be a sad, pathetic way to die."_

Owen sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window

"_I think it might be time to go on a little holiday. You and me. We'll drive to Dover, somewhere quiet. It'll give you time to think. I know you well enough to know that you have to have control over your destiny. You can't be locked away like a mad dog. It would be different if you trusted Jack, but you and I know the truth about that."_

Owen got up unsteadily and reached for his coat. He grabbed keys and wallet, and stopped. Then he reached into the closet for his duffel and began stuffing clothes and toiletries inside.

…………………………………………….

Ianto ran through the tape with them a third time. Jack shook his head. "I'll admit I didn't see that coming."

Gwen cocked her head, an odd look on her face. "One more time, Ianto."

Ianto nodded and rewound the tape at the moment that Owen straddled Gwen and spoke to the parasite.

"_I told you that you couldn't have her, and I meant it."_

_Gwen smiled. "I'm happy here. She is strong and healthy."_

"_She's no good for you."_

"_You'd never dare kill her."_

"_She'll never let you leave. I know her. She'll die rather than infect anyone else. She's a dead end."_

"_You must really love her."_

_Owen shook his head. "This isn't about love, it's practicality. I don't want her to die. If you come to me, we can negotiate. We'll find another host together before it's too late for me. It won't be a dilemma. I'll let that happen."_

The transfer knocked Owen off her, his body shuddering deeply. Gwen winced. "That's enough."

Ianto switched it off. Jack looked around the room. "So the question is whether Owen still has the parasite or has he dropped it on some bloke he looked up on the police database."

"Do you really think he'd do that?" Tosh asked.

"I don't." Gwen stood up at Jack.

Jack shook his head. "It isn't black or white for Owen. There's always a backdoor: a way out. He likes a good puzzle. The problem is he often jumps in before he knows the complexity of it. Cocky bastard."

Gwen reached for her cell and punched numbers. The phone rang for a while. Finally she pulled it shut. "I'll go over to his place."

"He's not there. He'll figure we know by now. Thinks we'll lock him up down with the Weevils."

Tosh frowned. "Well, Jack, is that what we're planning? Are we going to catch him and then lock him up down in the tombs? Are we going to leave him there until he dies?"

Jack looked away. "I don't know. Right now, I just don't know."

"Come on, Jack, we can do better than that. He's one of us. He deserves better."

Jack advanced on her. "Listen Tosh, I make the big decisions around here, but I don't choose it. If you want this one, be my guest. I would love to have one of you face one of these situations knowing that there's seldom a solution where nobody gets hurt. You weigh the consequences and make the decision. Then I can sit back and second guess you just like you do me time and time again."

Tosh flinched and backed away. Gwen shook her head in disgust. "Stop fighting you two! We can't afford it. We need to find Owen and we need to help him. We have to focus."

Ianto nodded. "She's right. First order of business is finding him and isolating him from others…even if it means the tombs…at least in the short run."

Gwen dragged her fingers through her thick black hair. "How are we going to find him? He could be anyway."

Tosh looked at Jack, and waited for his nod. "We can find him Gwen. Jack had me put a tracking system on all of our vehicles."

"What!?"

Jack shrugged. "We didn't know Suzy was going to pull a Suzy until she actually did it. I want to know how to find you all if another one of you goes south."

"And you couldn't have said something?" Gwen had her hands on her hips.

"It would rather defeat the purpose of it, wouldn't it now." Jack nodded at Tosh. "Get a fix on him. We'll head out as soon as we have a direction."

Gwen watched them disappear into their work. She was feeling something growing in her gut. Some of it was concern for Owen but there was more. She worried about the compromises they'd be making lately. Particularly, she was thinking of Jack letting the fairies take the child and bringing Suzy back to life. There was a good chance that the greater good would best be served by capturing Owen and putting him a cell until the parasite died. The fact that it would take him with was the kind of collateral damage that she was learning to accept at Torchwood. Her stomach turned at the thought especially considering what he sacrificed for her. All of it threatened to overwhelm her, and so she shook her head, and headed off after Jack.

…………………………………………………..

Owen had trouble concentrating on the road. The presence of the parasite even when not speaking, was overwhelming. Focusing on any sort of plan was very hard. The stress of carrying two consciences was difficult physically. He felt weariness like he'd never known. As a wiry little guy, Owen never lacked for energy, but this situation left him feeling like he'd aged 50 years.

_You're so quiet, Darling. Trying to weigh your options? Let me help with that. You have none. We're in this together. What happens to me happens to you._

"Shut up!"

Laughter pulsed through his body. _How quickly you humans lose your composure. Maybe you won't last nearly as long as I thought. You know, hosts don't need just physical stamina to keep me, they also need strength of character. Perhaps, I've misjudged you._

Owen rolled his eyes. "Maybe it's just the company I'm keeping." He swerved the car down a dirt road.

"_Where are you going?"_ The anger of the parasite seized his gut, and he shivered involuntarily.

"I need to rest," he shot back. "There's a nice little B&B just a few miles from here. Nice view of the bay."

"_You no longer make decisions on your own, Owen Harper. I'm the one in control and I say you turn around and get back on the main road."_

Pain tore through his temples and he winced.

"_It doesn't stop, Lover, until you turn this car around."_

Owen was a man dedicated to his own self-preservation, However, Owen was also a terribly stubborn man who grew up on tough streets, often having to prove that littler doesn't mean weaker. No two bit alien parasite was going to tell him what was what, no matter what kind of headache she could unleash on him. He wheeled the car off the road and gunned his little sports car down a hill. The pain was became white and he screamed. He spotted a tree and hit the accelerator. A man this desperate sees the world in very simple terms. Owen had blinding pain, and the tree was relief; consequences took a backseat. He stopped seeing anything a split second before the car wrapped itself around the old oak.

…………………………………………………

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

The Parasite

Author's note: Sorry it is so long between chapters, it's the nature of my life right now. I shouldn't even be writing anything for pleasure. I still don't really know what I am doing. I am letting the characters drive the story, and this is what it feels like they would be doing. Sheila

Chapter 3

They found him within an hour of the crash. Tosh had a fix on his vehicle, and Gwen had taken off fast. Gwen was sure from the spot on the map that Owen was at a B&B Rhys and she had frequented back in the day when she was normal and Rhys was the only man in her life.

It was when they turned off the road that Gwen knew that the signal would be found miles before the Bed and Breakfast. Tosh was the one who spotted Owen's navy blue sports car first. Her breath caught sharply. It was as if the car had melted into the tree. Gwen steered the car into the meadow, and the four of them piled out. Jack was the first to reach the car. Owen was slumped over the steering wheel, not moving. The trunk of the old oak prevented easy access, but Ianto took over. He produced a tool none of them had ever seen before, and within minutes, he was on the roof of the car, pulling it off like it was a can of sardines. He slid through the opening, and began threading Owen through the opening. Jack and Tosh pulled him off the car and onto the ground.

Even though they all knew how to respond, it took a minute. Owen was the one who crawled on top of victims, took vitals, and administered treatment. It seemed instinctual for him. It was as if he didn't think, he just did. Ideally, Owen would've woken and done the work for them.

Gwen tried to worm her way in, but Jack pushed her back. Then he pointed a finger at Tosh, "Don't touch him. Stay back!"

Jack took over, laying his ear against the finger on Owen's carotid. He gestured sharply at Tosh who did little more than push the first aid kit in his direction. He pulled out a syringe, taking a moment to check it, and then he plunged it into Owen's heart. Owen's head rose as he breathed in sharply. Then his head fell back and started breathing short, hard breathes.

"What did you do?" Gwen hissed.

"Did you want him dead?" Jack didn't even look at her. He focused on Owen's labored breathing.

"Was he dead?" Tosh whispered.

Jack sighed deeply. "If the body is still warm, the shot helps."

"What?! What is this?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "It's alien, Gwen. It's what we do. We stumble on technology we barely understand and we play with it."

Gwen sat back hard in the green grass. "But did you know?"

Jack shrugged. "I did what made sense. What more do you want?"

Ianto wormed his way between them. "Let's not fuss. We can't take him to the hospital. He might infect someone."

Tosh's eyes widened. "The parasite still lives?"

"We don't know." Ianto began patching a wound on Owen's shoulder.

Jack stood up. "We need to get him back to the hub."

"We don't have the facilities!" Gwen pulled herself up.

Ianto got up slowly between them. "We don't have a choice."

Gwen advanced on Jack. "What do we care about? Do we care about anything, Jack?"

He grabbed her forearms. "We are the only defense this world has against alien invasion. Do you understand that, Gwen? We aren't the last defense. We are the only defense. That's who we are."

She backed away from him. "So we walk away. We let him die."

He shook his head slowly. "Not a chance, Gwen. He's a pain in the ass, but he's ours. We're not giving up. Mark my words."

For a moment, no one moved. Then Tosh pushed Ianto. "Do we have a board? We have to get him in the van without jostling him."

Without a word, Ianto got up and ran to the van. Jack wouldn't let anyone else strap him in; it was only the sheer weight of an unconscious Owen on the board that forced him to let the others help carry him. The ride back was mostly silent. Jack tended to Owen's vitals in the back, deflecting offers of help. Whatever he'd given him back in the grass must have still been working because Owen's heartbeat never wavered. There was something so distressing about seeing tough, irascible Owen so utterly defenseless; Gwen would have given anything for him to glare at her and spit out some totally rude comment, but he was only a pale, gram visage hidden under an old blue army blanket.

………………………………………………………………………

Gwen looked across the room at Tosh who was pretending to tend to her email. "I didn't know Ianto knew how to use all the medical equipment so well."

Tosh nodded. "If it's in the hub, then Ianto knows how to work it. He sees everything and understands more."

Gwen sighed. "What do you think is going on back there?"

Tosh turned her chair and wheeled toward Gwen. "I reckon they're stabilizing him."

"Jack's going to put him down with the Weevils, isn't he?"

Tosh avoided her eyes. "I don't know that he has another choice."

Gwen shook her shaggy mane. "Of course, there are choices. Jack's just not willing to take a risk. There are lots of choices."

"Like what!?"

Gwen clutched her head. "I don't know!"

Tosh cocked her head. "Do you have feelings for Owen or is it just that he sacrificed for you?"

"Does it matter?"

Tosh looked down. "He deserves to have someone care about him, you know. He doesn't act it, but he still needs it."

"Caring about Owen isn't going to be our problem." For a moment, the two women looked at each other; their true feelings closely guarded.

…………………………………………………………….

Jack kneeled next to the cot. "I'm sorry, Owen."

Owen's breathing was shallow and ragged but his eyes were open. He slowly shook his head at Jack and looked away. Jack tensed and glanced back at Ianto standing in the shadows at the back of the cell. "There's no other way."

Not a muscle moved on Ianto's face.

"Jack!" Owen rolled his face back. "You can't leave me like this. I got a broken collarbone, ribs; every breath is agony. If you can't take me to a hospital, then you have to do something."

Jack shook his head. "I know what you want, but it comes too easy to you, Owen. I saw your face in the Weevil cage."

"I'm going to die anyway down here. You won't have another choice. Just a push is all I need."

Jack looked away. Ianto stepped forward. "We should be doing more for you. This is not enough."

Owen looked up at him and saw tears on Ianto's checks. "You have to help me."

Ianto reached down to touch him and then remembered. He stopped short. "We're not ready to let you go, Owen. God help us, but we can't do this until we know there's no other way."

Jack seemed to draw strength from Ianto. "We'll give you morphine, and I won't leave you. I promise. We just need time. You have to be strong for us."

"Oh bloody hell!" Owen winced. "Just go! Just get out of here!"

"I have an idea."

"I know what it is, Jack. You and I both know it isn't going to work."

"Owen-"

"No! Leave me be!" Owen turned away too sharply, and pain electrified his body. He howled.

Ianto and Jack exchanged looks. Then Ianto shook his head. "I've given him all the morphine I dare. We should let him rest."

……………………………………………………………………….

Tosh and Gwen were waiting at the door. "How is he?" Gwen hissed as they walked through. Ianto shook his head. He folded his arms and faced Jack. "Sitting around thinking about this is a bad idea. We've done all we can medically."

"I know."

Gwen brushed by him. "I know what's needed. I'm not asking, Jack. Open that door and let me go."

He grabbed her shoulders. "It's not going to help."

She glared at him. "He did this for me. It should be me in there."

"It won't work."

She pushed at him. "I'll take the parasite and you get him to the hospital. It'll give us time."

He whirled her around and drove her up against the wall. "And then what?! We lose you!"

"We need the time!"

Jack leaned in toward her. "How will we know when the parasite has left him and gone to you? I put you in that cell, and we won't ever know whether the parasite left Owen to go to you or whether it's waiting in Owen until we move him from the cell."

"I'll know."

Jack shook his head slowly. "Parasites can live for years through hundreds of hosts. They're tricky, sly. A parasite can attack you, but never enter you. We wouldn't know. You could go into that cell, but we'd never know. Then we would lost both of you. That's what it would come down to."

"I'll take the risk." Her big eyes stared into his. "Rhys is gone. What do I have left?"

Jack looked away. "I'm going back in. I'll get the parasite out."

She shook her head. "The parasite hasn't gone for you so far. What makes you think…?"

Jack backed away. Ianto was still there wearing one of those unfathomable looks. Tosh couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Jack shook his head, "There's no reason to think it wouldn't."

Ianto's mouth twitched. "I don't think you should risk it."

"Why not?" The look between the two men was intense.

"It won't prove anything, Jack. Is it worth knowing if the parasite even wants you?"

"Ianto's right," Tosh whispered.

Jack shook his head. "We can't live with doing nothing. We know that. And the last time I checked, I'm running this outfit so if the risk needs to be taken, then it's going to be me."

Gwen started to protest but he put up a hand. "It's me or you, and I say it's me. Show me you know how to follow orders, Cooper."

Jack gave Ianto a final look, then slipped back down to the cells. Weevils were awake for the night, and the howling was just starting down deep in their throats. It would build for hours until they hit their stride around midnight. The cacophony was hard on the human ear, and Ianto always made sure all of his chores were done before the evening concert commenced. Their voices were both melancholy and jarring, and Jack felt a shiver run down his spine. If he was unsuccessful, he'd have to make sure that Owen was too deeply drugged to have to suffer it.

Jack slipped back into the cell quietly. Owen was resting. It was the most peaceful Jack had ever seen him, and it touched him. For a moment, he merely stood over the younger man, watching. Owen had never been the easiest of comrades, but he was fearless, brilliant, and oddly loyal. It was more than a need for adventure that pushed Owen Harper to do this bizarre, dangerous work when he could be living the life of a highly paid doctor; taking weekends to Paris with long-legged girls who wanted nothing more than money in their pockets.

Jack leaned over and whispered, "I'm willing to be the host."

Owen's eyes blinked open, and at first Jack thought he would be dealing with Owen's desperation again, but the eyes were strangely vacant when he spoke, "You won't do, Jack Harkness."

"It's not a trick. We just want to get Owen to a hospital. For this reason, I'm willing to take you."

The parasite in Owen gave an odd chortle. "I enter you and it will be like struggling to survive in the most arid of deserts. No, thank you."

Jack frowned. "I'm living. I have a soul."

Owen shook his head. "You may have a soul, Harkness, but I feed off lifeforce, and when I sense you, there's nothing there. You're an empty shell."

Jack closed his eyes. He'd worked so hard to hide from the pain of this truth. "I can be a temporary host, just long enough to get him the help he needs."

"You're assuming I have some investment in his life. He tried to kill me. I'm not doing anything to help him."

Jack let out a deep breath. "But, at the expense of your own existence?"

"You won't really let him rot down here in this cell. None of you are built for it. When I choose, I plan to choose wisely." The parasite closed Owen's eyes, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Jack gripped Owen's shoulders, and then remembered his injuries as the man groaned in distress. Jack winced and let go. For a moment, he stood over Owen and said nothing. Then he leaned in again and whispered, "I want to save you, Owen. I just don't know how."

…………………………………………………..

To be continued


End file.
